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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#84361voted by our readers
By Anonymous
The past is the past, it wouldn’t last You talk to me with such a laugh, while I’m stretching out my calf. We talk as if nothings changed, but yet we are not the same...
The past is the past, it wouldn’t last You talk to me with such a laugh, while I’m stretching out my calf. We talk as if nothings changed, but yet we are not the same...